


Hours After

by whatdoyouthinkmyjobis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Gen, Pre-Stanford, Teen Angst, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5738059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoyouthinkmyjobis/pseuds/whatdoyouthinkmyjobis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean mulls over Sam's Stanford announcement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hours After

Dean pressed the ice pack onto his eye, a stinging reminder that he was now alone. He had never been a fan of being alone. Even at twenty-three, he had too many ghosts. When he worked a job on his own, he’d pick up a woman to take back to his hotel or he’d call home to report back to his dad on the case or to tease Sam, who had been less and less into being teased for the last year.

He knew something was off with his baby brother, and when Sam finally confided in him that he had been accepted to Stanford, Dean knew their dad wouldn’t take the news well. He’d taken it worse.

Taking a long pull from the bottle of cheap whiskey, he tried to burn the memory out of him. His dad screaming about family and duty. Sam’s accusations of neglect. “I don’t want to be a part of this fucked up family!”

When the fists started flying, he jumped in between thinking of all the things that had happened in the last twenty years, this would have hurt mom the most.

“Don’t try to come back!” their dad had yelled as Sam stalked toward the door.

“Why would I? You never did anything for me anyway!” He slammed the door and disappeared.

That hurt more than the punch someone landed. He did everything for Sam. Fed him first. Made sure he got to school on time. Kept him in books. Kept the watchful eye of CPS and the leering eye of perverts off of him. Sam was what he lived for.

He forgot what happened next. Maybe his dad told him where he was going, maybe he didn’t. He did pack all of his things. So did Dean even though the room was paid through the end of the week, which is why he found himself nursing what ailed him in a truck stop parking lot. 

Patting under his seat, he came up with a wooden box holding his small stash of pot. There was already a joint inside from when he’d gotten high with some girl we few weekends back. They didn’t end up having sex, just smoking in a field, watching the stars, and sharing impossibly big dreams before falling asleep.

Dean smiled. His boy was going to college. Stanford. Full ride. 


End file.
